Monday, May 26, 2014

Carrie Collins has been trying to hold it together for three years, since her husband Sean was killed in the line of duty during an undercover drug operation gone bad. If that and the mountain of bills she was left with weren’t bad enough, her son becomes mixed up with the wrong crowd at school. Carrie feels like a failure as a mother, and does the only thing she can think of to fix things, she goes back to her parent’s ranch.

Her dead husband’s best friend, the man accused, but later exonerated of, Sean’s murder shows up at the ranch with his new wife and offers her a break from the kids and the craziness of her life. Carrie is reluctant to accept, but he won’t take no for an answer. She goes to the R & R Ranch, but doesn’t find relaxation there. What she finds is a tall, charismatic ex-rodeo cowboy who not only ties her emotions in more knots than his lasso, he wakes up her dormant libido.

Carrie fights the attraction, because the last thing she needs is a man like Dylan Thomas in her life, a tumbleweed kind of guy who tells her in no uncertain terms he isn’t looking for a relationship. She knows her kids deserve better and so does she. Her kids aren’t there though, and the temporary fantasy he represents becomes too much to resist.

Dylan Thomas wants nothing more than to return to competitive bull riding after an almost career-ending injury landed him at the R & R Ranch teaching rich greenhorns to ride bulls. A year and a half of catering to those wealthy snobs has him bored and restless, until a curvy brunette convinces him it might not be so bad to hang around for a little while longer.

Carrie Collins takes hard to get to an olympic-class level though, and it takes everything in Dylan’s bag of tricks to get close to her. When things finally heat up between them, he finds out there are a couple of things she hasn’t told him about. Like the two kids she has who show up at the ranch, and the job she has accepted there.

His temporary fling with the cute ranch guest suddenly gets a lot more complicated and permanent. Especially when former associates of her son turn up at the ranch demanding money she doesn’t have. Dylan knows then he’s borrowed a helluva lot of trouble he didn’t need in his life by getting involved with her, but when the opportunity to leave presents itself, how can he leave her in danger?

Clean Excerpt

The loud, throaty rumble of an engine reached Carrie Collins inside the barn and her eyebrows knotted. She laid the saddle blanket back on the shelf, and dusted her hands on her jeans as she walked to the door. Shielding her eyes, she looked at the road to see who was paying them a visit. Maybe it was one of her mother’s friends from church, she thought, but then a slick, black motorcycle emerged from the trees onto the gravel drive leading up to the house and she realized she was very wrong. Neither rider wore a helmet, both wore bandanas instead. One rider was in black leather and the other in white.

Concern shot through her, and Carrie considered going back inside to get the shotgun her daddy kept in the office, just in case, but the kids and her daddy were in the house. He could see her from there and she knew he must hear the loud engine too. She walked out of the barn to stand under the tree and wait for them to make it to the barn.

The bike stopped, and the driver put down the kick stand. He leaned down to fiddle with something at the side of the bike and she noticed the pattern on his bandana said Groom of Doom interspersed with hearts over crossed bones. Cute, but definitely not bad ass, she thought, feeling a little better about her mysterious visitors. A man wouldn’t wear a bandana like that if he was a bad guy, would he?

From the curves the white leather suit hugged, it was obvious his passenger was a woman. She swung her long leg over the back of the bike and stood. Carrie squinted and made out that the wording on her white bandana that said Bitchin’ Bride. The man on the front of the bike looked back up, and his sunglasses were gone. Recognition hit her between the eyes and Carrie gasped. “Trace…”

His jaw tightened, accentuating the scar on his left cheek, which he had to have gotten in prison. Trace Rooks was still handsome as sin, but he looked rougher, tougher and much harder than he had when she saw him last in court. When they convicted him of killing her husband, Sean. Heat shot up her throat and gathered as pressure behind her eyes. Trace hadn’t killed Sean, she reminded herself, shoving the old bitterness she’d lived with for three years away. Sean’s other best friend, Seth Copeland, had not only killed Sean, he had set Trace up for the crime.

Seth was in jail now, and Trace was free. But it was obvious from the look in his haunted eyes that Trace wasn’t free at all. Not any freer than she was.

The woman with him glanced at Trace, before quickly walking over to Carrie to extend her hand. “I’m Ronnie Win—“ she started, then a fleeting smile curved her red lips. She glanced back at Trace again, then corrected, “Ronnie Rooks.”

“That’ll take some getting used to,” Trace said with a laugh as he got off the bike and walked over to drape an arm around Ronnie’s shoulders. “Ronnie and I got married in Vegas.”

Married? Trace Rooks? The man her husband said was a world-class player who would probably never get married was married to none other than the Shark Lady. The woman who had represented him during his trial, and recommended a plea deal that sent him to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. At the time, Carrie thought the slick attorney was brilliant, that she would get him off scot free. To Carrie, even the three year sentence the judge handed down was pretty damned close to getting him off scot free. But Trace evidently thought otherwise, because on his way out of the courtroom he had threatened to strangle this woman. And now they were married. Unbelievable.

Her eyes locked with the woman beside Trace and Ronnie Rooks full red lips curved to spotlight her perfect white teeth. Carrie ran her hand over her own hair, which she’d done nothing to except pull back in a haphazard ponytail that morning. She hadn’t worn makeup since Sean died three years ago, so she knew she must look a mess in comparison to the striking woman. “Wow,” was all Carrie could push past her frozen vocal chords.

Trace hugged Ronnie to his side. “The honeymoon is over and Ronnie has an election to win,” Trace informed with a surprising smile for the beautiful redhead. “But I wanted to stop by to check on you and the kids. I’ve uh, been meaning to do that for a while.”

What Carrie wanted was to get Trace out of there. His stopping by, or worrying about her at all was astonishing to her. She was embarrassed at the nasty things she’d said to him at the courthouse as they led him off to jail. Those words should have assured she would never see him again. But here he was. Typical Trace. He never knew when to leave well enough alone. Even though he’d been a player, he was a good man. It was the reason he had been Sean’s best friend. When someone needed help, Trace was always there. He was the one who should be wearing the white leather suit.

Well, Carrie didn’t want his chivalry or his concern. She’d been doing just fine on her own for three years now. Seeing him just reminded her of Sean, dredged up old memories she had been trying to bury since her husband died. The kids would feel the same. Chris and Izzy had enough problems right now, and so did she.

Carrie sucked in a breath and forced a smile. “Oh, that’s sweet, Trace, but I’m fine—”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s obvious that you’re not fine, Carrie,” he grated. “Seth might be an asshole, but he didn’t lie about what was going on with you. You moved out here because the kids were out of control, and you lost your house. I want to help you, if you’ll let me.” Trace’s eyes fell to her left hand, and Carrie hid it behind her back. “It’s been three years since Sean died, and you’re still wearing your wedding ring?” he asked incredulously.

Because in her mind she was still married to him. The man she had dated in high school then married when she was eighteen had been the love of her life. Yeah, they’d had their problems, but Carrie knew Sean would always be there for her. Unless he was working, which he did most of their married life. Or he did something stupid. Like get himself killed.

Anger and grief warred inside of her and Carrie spun the ring around her finger with her thumb. Trace Rooks of all people knew how much she loved Sean, how much he had meant to her. He had been Sean’s best friend and the best man at their wedding. Him questioning her about still wearing her ring, like she didn’t have a right to do that, pissed her off. She didn’t owe him or anyone else any explanations about how she handled her grief. “I don’t want any help,” Carrie said firmly.

His arm fell from around Ronnie’s shoulder, and his hands clenched into fists at his side. “Well that’s too damned bad, you’re getting it,” he said taking a step toward her. It’s the summer, so the kids are out of school right?”

Carrie’s neck rocked back on her shoulders to meet his eyes. What the hell did that matter? “Yeah, they’re out of school. Why?”

“You ever hear of the R & R Ranch?” Trace asked.

Ranch? That place was a spa for rich people who were looking for adventure. Not somewhere she would ever visit in this lifetime. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“The owner is a friend of Ronnie’s and we’ve made arrangements for you to go there for a week. You need a damned break. Ronnie and I will keep Chris and Izzy for the week,” he said. The woman beside him gasped, and Trace glared down at her, before looking back at Carrie. “I want to see them anyway.”

Before Sean’s death, Trace had been a fixture in her kid’s life. She had tried to shield them from the ugliness of the murder trial, because they considered him an uncle, but Chris knew. She couldn’t keep him away from the television when the trial was going on. The more he watched behind her back, the angrier and more withdrawn he became. Carrie hadn’t had a chance to talk to her son since Trace had been cleared. “Um, that’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why the hell not? I want to talk to him.”

Carrie didn’t miss the hurt in Trace’s tone. He loved her kids as much as Sean had, but they didn’t feel the same now. Because Carrie hadn’t had time to talk to them. “Chris doesn’t know you’ve been cleared,” she admitted looking away.

“Why haven’t you told him?” he demanded.

Carrie heard the unmistakable sound of a pump shotgun being racked and spun toward the barn door. Her tall, lanky thirteen-year-old son stood there with her father’s shotgun to his shoulder, eyeing down the sight at Trace.

“Get out of here murderer,” he growled trying to sound fierce, but his voice trembled.

Fear shot to her throat. Carrie swallowed it down and tried to force calm into her tone, “Chris, put the shotgun down.”

It was true. Chris was out of control, but she had no idea how to help him. Counselors hadn’t worked, suspension from school for smoking pot hadn’t worked, grounding for the summer hadn’t worked. Moving away from the nasty group of friends he’d been hanging out with at the old house hadn’t worked. Carrie was afraid he was going to end up dead or in jail if she didn’t do something. She just didn’t know what to do. He needed a man in his life, a good man other than her father who was just too old to deal with teenagers any more.

Trace stepped forward and spread his arms. “Shoot me,” he invited and Ronnie and Carrie gasped at the same time. “If it will make you feel better and you think it will bring your daddy back, just do it, kid. I loved him too, and I love you.”

Carrie thought Trace must’ve lost his mind. The gun shook in Chris’s hand, and she thought he might do accidentally shoot him. Trace was even bolder though, he showed no fear as he took a step around her, then another toward Chris. Carrie saw Chris’s eyes fill, but his grip on the gun got tighter. His finger moved into the well of the trigger.

“It’s true, honey,” Carrie said with a waver in her voice. “He’s in jail, and Uncle Trace has been cleared. It was all a mistake.”

Chris swung his eyes toward her, then back to Trace. The barrel of the gun lowered a few inches, and his shoulders relaxed a little. Carrie’s did too, but Izzy picked that moment to run around the side of the barn yelling her brother’s name. Chris tensed again and swung the gun in Izzy’s direction. Carrie screamed, Ronnie gasped, and as if in slow motion Trace shot forward to tackle him around the waist.

The gun exploded and Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, because she just couldn’t look. Her ears rang as the sound reverberated through the trees, and she prayed that she hadn’t just lost her daughter too.

Dirty Excerpt 18+

Ready or not, Dylan didn’t leave or back off. His heat surrounded her, as his body crowded her from behind. His fingers brushed her skin as he pushed her hair aside to lean over her shoulder. He stuck his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, then hovered here a moment with his hot breath tickling the shell of her ear. The richer, deeper timber of his voice vibrated through her, as he finally asked, “You like to bake. Is that why you smell like sugar cookies?” Electricity zipped down her spine when his lips touched down briefly on a spot right behind her ear. Carrie shivered and he laughed.

“Or do you just wear the dough behind your ear to tease me, because you know I have a weakness for sugar cookies?” After a final flick of his hot, wet tongue, he moved away. Cool air hit the wet imprint left by his mouth, and Carrie shivered. Her nails curled into her palms, and she sucked in a breath when they scraped her burn. The spatula clattered to the stove, and she sucked the fleshy pad at the side of her palm into her mouth.

Dylan grabbed her hand to inspect it. “Did you burn yourself?” he asked with concern. “We need to take you to the med shack and get Terri to bandage it. I was headed out there when I heard the smoke alarm, but I didn’t see her out there.”

“It’s fine,” Carrie said tugging her hand away. He didn’t let it go. Instead, he brought it to his mouth and kissed it slowly as he held her gaze. Carrie licked her lips, tasting the sugar cookies she had to taste test before she put them in the oven. “Um, I, ah…” she stammered, at a loss for words as she stared at the blatant desire in his eyes.

“Do you ride?” he asked suddenly.

Her dazed mind spun trying to process the words. “Since I could walk,” Carrie replied once she wrapped her mind around what he’d asked.

“I have a few days off for my arm to heal. Will you go riding with me this afternoon?

You need to relax a little,” he said with a little smile.

Carrie didn’t know how spending time with this cowboy would lend itself to relaxation. Every time she got within three feet of him, she was wound tighter than she had been in years. Being alone with him, wouldn’t help her put distance between them. But her mouth opened, and “Yes,” fell out, before she could stop it.

She only had two days left here, and she couldn’t resist the opportunity to feel like a desirable woman once more. That’s how he made her feel. Something she hadn’t felt in three years, and wasn’t likely to feel again for a long time after she left this ranch. Dylan made her forget her grief, forget her problems. Carrie knew agreeing to spend time with him was just avoidance. Her problems would still be there when she went back to her parents’ ranch. Right now though, he would help her forget for an afternoon.

“Come out to the barn around two, and I’ll have the horses saddled.”

“I can help,” she offered, and her gaze fell to his shoulder. “You’re hurt. You shouldn’t be saddling anything. Are you sure you’re okay to ride?”

He laughed and his smile broadened. “I could ride with one arm tied behind my back.”

“I’ll ride with you, if you let me saddle the horses then,” she propositioned.

“Deal,” he replied and his deep voice vibrated along her nerve endings. When he leaned toward her, Carrie held her breath. His lips touched hers, lingered for a second, then with a playful little nip to her lower lip, he stood back up and smiled. “You taste like sugar cookies.”

“That’s what the lumps of coal in the trash were,” she replied with an embarrassed laugh.

“Give me some of those beautiful biscuits, and a few of those cupcakes to take back to the bunkhouse with me.” Dylan eyed them over her shoulder. “I’ll make some gravy to go with the biscuits for breakfast.” His tongue made a circuit around his lips, and her eyes were dragged around with it. Heat settled between her legs, and her lips sizzled.

She would give him the whole damned pan if he kissed her again. But he didn’t. He just stood there staring. Waiting. For her to do something. Oh, yeah, ice the cupcakes and wrap up biscuits for him. Heat shot up to her cheeks, and Carrie walked to the refrigerator to get the bowl of icing. She iced the cupcakes, while he leaned against the counter watching her. Moving around him, she brought the bowl to the sink, then opened the cabinet beside it to look for a container. The one she wanted was on the upper shelf, and she couldn’t reach it even on her tip toes. Huffing a frustrated breath, she balanced on her arms, then climbed up on the counter. Sometimes it sucked being short, she thought, as she stood to drag it down from the top shelf. When she turned around to get down Dylan was right there behind her.

He smiled up at her and put his hand at her knee. “I couldn’t help you get it down, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall,” he informed with a shrug.

Carrie eased down to sit on the counter, and he grabbed the container from her to sit it on the counter, before he nudged her knees apart to make a space for his hips. He slid his hands up her thighs to grip her hips, and Carrie’s heart did a leap in her chest. “And I wanted a real kiss. You’re at the perfect height now for that to happen.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he licked his lips again. “Kiss me, Carrie,” he invited, not making a move to kiss her. He just waited, while staring at her mouth, which felt like it was on fire. Carrie licked her own lips, then hesitantly leaned toward him, stopping when her mouth was within millimeters of his to catch her breath, to get her out of control heart to slow down.

“Kiss me, Carrie,” he whispered again.

She put her palms on his bare chest and his heated skin felt like smooth silk under her touch. His warm, musky morning scent enflamed her senses, as she closed the space between them to take a tentative pass over his mouth with hers, then another. That evidently wasn’t enough for him, because his left hand moved up from her hip. He shoved his hand into her hair, cradling her skull to pull her closer, as his mouth devoured hers. He feasted on her lips like they were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

His were the best she had tasted in a helluva long time, that was for sure. Minty toothpaste, and the sweetness of the man kissing her flooded her senses. Carrie couldn’t get enough of him. Her hands moved to circle his neck and pull him closer still. He was right, this counter was at the perfect height for kissing and so much more.

The inside of her knee brushed the warm skin at his hip, where his pajama pants rode low. Fire shot up the inside of her thigh to her center and she throbbed there in time with her heart. Without conscious thought, Carrie wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer to where she needed him. Dylan moaned into her mouth, and his tongue courted hers in time with his hips, as he ground himself into her.

His erection hit her in just the perfect spot, and her breath came in short pants as her pleasure inched up with each stroke. When she couldn’t breathe, she dragged her mouth from his and threw her head back. His lips latched onto the side of her neck and he sucked her there. Carrie moaned loudly, thrusting her hips against him, reaching for the release that was just out of her reach. “Oh, God, Dylan…yes, make me come,” she whispered hotly.

His fingers dug into her right hip, as he continued to suck her neck. “Lord, woman…I want to fuck you right here on Penny’s counter,” he growled into her ear, increasing the pace of his thrusts.

That was the hottest damned thing Carrie had ever heard. The only place she’d ever made love was in the bedroom. Behind closed doors. Most of the time with the kids rattling the doorknob, or yelling for her. Just the naughty image of doing it right here that flickered through her mind, sent her tumbling over the edge.

About Becky McGraw:

Becky
McGraw is a married mother of three adult children, and a Southern girl
by birth and the grace of God, ya'll. She resides in South Texas with
her husband and dog Abby.

A
jack of many trades in her life, Becky has been an optician, a
beautician, a legal secretary, a senior project manager for an aviation
management consulting firm, which took her all over the United States, a
real estate broker, and now a graphic artist, web designer and
writer. She knows just enough about a variety of topics to make her
dangerous, and her romance novels interesting and varied. Being a
graphic artist is a good thing for her too, because she creates her own
cover art, along with writing the novels.

Becky
has been an avid reader of romance novels since she was a teenager, and
has been known to read up to four novels of that genre a week, much to
the dismay of her husband, and the delight of e-book sellers.

She
has been writing fictional short stories and novels for fun, as well as
technical copy for her jobs for many years. She was a member of the
Writer's Guild on AOL, as well as a founding member and treasurer of the
first online chapter of the Romance Writers of America, From the Heart
Romance Writers. Currently, she is a PAN member of RWA and a general
member of FTHRW.

Cassie Bellamy swore she'd never go back to her hometown when she left Bowie, Texas ten years prior. In that time she'd all but forgotten about the man who sent her running to Phoenix in the first place, bad boy Luke Matthews. She had built a new life in Arizona, which included a successful real estate business, and a new fiancé. The last thing she needed was to dredge up old memories by seeing him again. But her daddy was hurt and needed her help at the ranch. Her plan was to get her daddy on his feet as quickly as possible, and avoid Luke Matthews like the plague.

That plan went to hell fast when, on a nostalgic whim, she decided to drive her old pickup back to Bowie, instead of her BMW. Bessie gave up the ghost five miles outside of Bowie, and the one person she wanted to avoid became her knight in brown khaki. Cassie knew right then she was in big trouble. The reformed bad boy was the Sheriff of Bowie now, and not only was he still hotter than the Texas sun, his anger toward her was too.

Luke Matthews had worked damned hard to change the way people of Bowie thought of him. He was no longer known as the bad boy son of the town's drunk, they called him Sheriff now. For ten years, Luke had been living on the right side of the law. Although he was discreet about it, he also played hard to forget about the woman who'd given him the determination to better himself by leaving him ten years prior without a word.

His strategy had worked perfectly, until he came across a beat up pickup on the side of the road and decided to play good Samaritan. That charitable act led him to the uncharitable owner of the illegally long legs sticking out from under the hood. Cassie Bellamy was back in town and the beautiful blonde was just as sassy and stubborn as she always had been.

At first he's pissed, but then realizes he's just been presented with the prime opportunity to finally settle his mind and move on. Luke is determined before he sees her beautiful backside on the way out of town, he will have his answers, even if it takes hog-tying her to get them.

EXCERPT:

"Crotchety old filly is like a drill sergeant. Bosses me around something terrible," he grumbled and forked a piece of scrambled egg into his mouth. "Kinda like those sponge baths though," he said around the egg and chuckled.

He would, she thought, and chuckled herself. "She sounds like just what you need, old man. Otherwise, you'd be running all over her."

"You're one to talk little girl. That wimpy ex-fiancé of yours still in jail?"

"As far as I know. Between your trespassing charge and mine for stalking, James will either have to drop the charges against Luke, or spend more time than him in jail. I'm going to get a restraining order against him, once I get back to Phoen--" she realized what she had been about to say and stopped.

Her daddy's eyes narrowed. There was dead silence between them for a minute or two, then he asked in a low even voice, "So you're going back?"

Cassie looked down at her hands. "Yeah, for now. I've got a lot of loose ends to tie up with the business, and I need to really think about where I want to live and what I want to do. I made a snap decision to stay in Bowie because I was excited about the horse breeding thing..."

"You can still do that. I have plenty of money, Cassie Bee, more than I could ever spend before I kick the bucket."

Cassie looked back at him, and emotion clogged her throat. She cleared it then said, "I know Daddy, but if I do it, I want to do it on my own. It will mean more that way. But I'm not sure yet if that's what I want or not." Carl's eyes misted, and Cassie reassured him, even though she knew it wasn't going to happen, "I still might do it Daddy, there's just a lot I need to deal with before I can make a decision. A lot I need to work out."

"You tell Luke?"

"No, I didn't...and I'm not. He wouldn't let me go. The time I've spent with him these past few weeks has been great. I realize I love him, haven't ever stopped. But I don't see things working out between us. We don't make each other stronger."

Carl threw his fork down on the tray and spat, "That's horseshit, girl. You two were made for each other, and it's a crying ass shame you can't see it. That boy loves you, and he'll take care of you. You could do a helluva lot worse than him, that's for sure."

"See that's the thing Daddy—I don't want him to take care of me. I've been taking care of myself for ten years. And if I stay he'll try to do that. All that's done so far is get him into trouble. His life was solid until I came back. Even Cole said so. I think the best thing I can do for both of us is go back to Phoenix. For now, anyway."

"You've got some strange notions about love, honey." Carl shook his head and picked up his fork again. Staring down at his plate, he continued, "Your mama was the love of my life, and we argued every day. It didn't mean we didn't love each other. Love's hard work...not for the faint of heart."

Cassie just listened, even though she wanted to argue that she knew it was hard work, and she didn't mind working hard, as long as she knew the end result would be worth it. In their case, she and Luke would just wind up hurting each other again.

He stuck his fork into a piece of cantaloupe and waved it at her. "You're one of the strongest women I know, Cassie Bee...and you could work it out with Luke, if you'd just stick around and try." His eyes pleaded with her to change her mind.

Not happening. "Since I've been back in Bowie, I've gotten thrown from a horse, almost raped, broken my ankle and cracked my skull. My crazy ex stalked me. And Luke, bless his heart, has tried to save me from it all. For his trouble, he's been antagonized by me, risked everything he has to buy a herd of cattle he has no use for, and he's had to beat the shit out of the cowhand for trying to rape me. He has been thrown in jail once, almost twice. Now, he's arguing with his best friend over me. I'm just no good for him, and Bowie isn't good for me."

That got a chuckle out of her dad, but he sobered quickly. "None of that has anything to do with the price of tea in China—or love, girl. If Luke was there for you through all that, and you were there for him, that's what love is. Life ain't easy, you have to take the fleas with the dog."

"Well, I'm taking my flea circus and heading back to Phoenix for a while, daddy."

He looked up at her and asked quietly, "Why did you run away after graduation, Cassie Bee?"

Cassie looked down at her hands again. It was time to finally give her daddy the truth. "Because of Luke," she said and cleared her throat. "It know now it was a misunderstanding, but Luke was supposed to meet me at the lake that night. When he didn't show up, I went looking for him and found him tangled up with Becca Harvey, and thought he was cheating on me."

"Did you talk to him before you left? Ask him about it?"

"No...I was too hurt."

"So you just got your ass over the dashboard and left him dangling on the limb to head toPhoenix."

Cassie looked up at him and swallowed hard. "Yeah, I guess I did. But he didn't come after me either."

"You're wrong there. He came over here right after you left that night, looking like he could chew nails. He grabbed me by the collar and yelled at me trying to get me to tell him where you were. I thought he was gonna cry when I told him you left, but I didn't know where you were heading."

Her daddy had never mentioned that to her before, and a wave a guilt surged up to strangle her. "I didn't know."

"So now you're doing it again. Leaving him dangling without talking to him and heading off to Phoenix to run away and hide, because you decided that was best."

Was she doing that? Repeating history by being a coward and running away instead of confronting Luke? Her conscience whispered, hell yes you are. "Okay, Daddy you've made a point. I'll call Luke and talk to him."

Widowed Phoenix Detective, Sabrina Roberts, is burned out. She hopes the chance to stand in a friend's wedding in a small Texas town will give her the break she so desperately needs. Once there she finds that and a lot more when she meets sexy, but chauvanistic, Sheriff Cole Jackson.

Identical Twin, Professional Rodeo Roper Karlie Upton is on the run from an abusive ex. She runs to a friends ranch in a small Texas town and the first person she meets is the tall, dark and disgrunted Chief Deputy in the town, Gabe Kelley.

Aspiring Country Singer, Jess Sparks, hits the lottery from a one-night stand. Her prize is her daughter Angel. A gig in a small town brings her face to face with the man who fathered Angel. If she can get past the fear of losing her precious Angel, can she find love and a father for her with sexy bull rider Wade Roberts?

Left high and dry by her roping partner and twin sister, cowgirl Katie Upton hires on at the Rockin' R horse ranch as a cutting horse trainer. Her new boss, sexy single-father, Tommy Tucker both tempts and frustrates her. His daughter Dixie is a little hellion, who needs supervision that he's not giving her, and is always in trouble. Like someone else she knew. Her wild ass twin sister.

Country Fiddler Jazzie Ramos' life is in upheaval. Her best friend has just gotten married, and her younger brother is in a heap of trouble. She is determined to save him, and finds help from handsome Texas Ranger Beau Bowman. Beau is determined to help keep her safe, but he's more determined to stay single.

Texas Wildcatter Oilman Chase Rhodes never gets the girl. He is tired of women either wanting friendship or sex from him, but nothing more. He’s looking for a woman who thinks he’s a keeper, and after meeting her thinks that woman just might be ER Doc Jenny Anderson, and makes her an offer she can't refuse.

After his divorce, attorney Joel Rhodes is into sampling flavors not relationships. And he's finished with the law. He buys a dude ranch and hires flavor number one, nurse Terri Cassidy, to be his medic for the ranch. It doesn't take long for him to realize he's bitten off more than he bargained for by hiring the petite brunette.

Injured firefighter and spec ops paramedic Ethan Cassidy thinks his life is over when he goes to his sister’s ranch to recouperate from an accident on the job. He meets country beautiful female ranch hand Roxanne Baker, who insists on helping him recuperate from his injuries, and suddenly he seems to think life might be worth living after all.

Former Miss Texas, beauty queen Leigh Ann Baker knows she has more value than marrying some rich old man. She leaves her ovrebearing mother to go to her sister Roxanne for help, and meets sexy vet Wes Jepson. Single father, veterinarian Wes Jepson needs an assistant, but his friend's sister, prissy Leigh Ann Baker, is a far cry from what he needs. Not only is she incompetent, she stirs up a hornet’s nest a local ranch known for underhanded dealings.

Former detective Trace Rooks knows his father was behind sending him to prison. When he gets out early by making a deal with the feds, Trace is determined to take Senator Rooks down. After he deals with his father, he plans to take down the other person responsible. Veronica Winters, the beautiful, but treacherous attorney who represented him during his trial. His plans are delayed though, when he gets thrown in jail again for trying to help a scatter-brained beauty queen before she gets killed in the operation at the ranch. When Ronnie Winters shows up at the jail offering her help, he wants none of it. But he can't resist getting his pound of flesh from her just a little earlier than he anticipated.

Excerpt

You
want answers, Veronica?" Trace ground out, his eyes hard and dark. His
arm shot across the table, and she flinched. He laughed and grabbed
her pen then leaned back and dropped it under the table. Lowering his
voice, he leaned forward again to growl, "Let me tell you what I want, then you decide if you still want those answers.” He drummed his fingers on the table.

Tingles
of alarm coursed through Veronica traveling with the excitement already
buzzing along her nerve endings. Something wasn't right here. Trace
Rooks wasn't right. Three years in prison had warped him, changed him
into a man she didn't know. One who scared her a little. And that was
saying a lot. Because men didn't scare her—ever. She was the one who
scared them.

Veronica
stiffened her shoulders, and her spine to sit up straighter in her
chair. She was The Shark Lady, the best damned criminal lawyer in
Amarillo, and he better damn well remember who he was talking to.

Trace
shoved his chair up under the table, and the sound grated through
her. He slouched in the chair, and drummed his fingers on the table
again. "What I want, Red, is for you to get under that table,
and pick up that pen," he drawled, his eyes glittering with purpose. The
scar on his cheek deepened when his mouth twisted into a travesty of a
smile. "While you're under there, I want you to unzip my pants and suck
my dick. If you do a good enough job of it, I'll give you your
answers."

Ronnie snorted, and leaned back in her chair crossing her arms over her chest. "Dream on, big boy."

He
was out of his mind if he thought she was going to do that. Her eyes
involuntarily traveled to the camera mounted in the corner. Not that
the camera mattered, there was no way she was going to do what he wanted
even if there wasn't a camera. But the thought of it made her
wet. The possibility of getting caught, the probability of getting away
with something so daring.

"I'm
not dreaming," he said smoothly. "You're the one who came here to get
answers from me. That's the only way you're going to get them,
Veronica. I haven't had sex in three years because of you. You owe it
to me. Bet mine doesn't taste any different than Leland's did."

Three years?
Trace Rooks had only served two years, and had been out of prison for
six months. Before he went to prison, Trace Rooks didn't have trouble
finding a willing woman. She couldn’t believe getting laid wasn’t near
the top of his priority list when he got out of prison. While she
worked on his case, Veronica knew of at least two women he was with when
he was out of jail pending court hearings. One of them had even been
in the courtroom, bawling hysterically when he was sentenced.

Either one of those women would probably do just what he asked. Veronica wasn't those women. And she absolutely was not getting under that table to suck Trace Rooks off.

His
eyes narrowed and a smug smile kicked up the corner of his firm
mouth. "You asked me back then why Leland wanted me in jail. What if I
told you?" he asked with a lifted brow. "Would you suck my dick for
that information? How far would you go, Veronica? Would you swallow when
I come in your mouth too?" Trace sucked a breath in through his teeth
and moved one of his hands under the table. "God, I'm hard just
thinking about it."

Her
eyes focused on his mouth. Firm, full lips that spewed his venom,
issued his dirty challenges. "Stop being vulgar, Trace. You're just
trying to shock me. Just talk to me. I'm trying to help you here."

"Help me, help you. Isn't that what you told me when you said I should accept that bogus plea deal, Red?"

"I was trying
to help. Taking that deal was in your best interest," she said leaning
back in her chair again. She glanced under the table and the pen
taunted her.

Trace
laughed harshly. "You helped me right into three years in prison. Now
I'm going to help you get your answers, right after you give me a blow
job."

She snorted, and lifted a brow. "Keep screwing with me and I'll get under that table and bite your dick off," she threatened.

He
leaned forward on his elbows, and met her eyes directly. "You bite me
and when I get out, I'll tie you up and spank your ass until you beg me
to fuck you." Trace wasn't kidding. His dark eyes were focused on her,
and he didn't blink, not once. A dull throb started at the apex of her
thighs, and she uncrossed her legs to press her knees together.

This
was ridiculous. Ronnie didn't like kinky sex, had never had a partner
who was into it either. Why was she getting so turned on then by his
naughty suggestions?

She
shook her head to clear it. This wasn’t getting her anywhere. She
also realized she wasn't getting anywhere with Trace Rooks, and
considering his mood, she wasn't going to. Veronica scraped her chair
back, then reached down for her briefcase.

The
black pen near his foot taunted her again. He used the toe of his boot
to slowly shove it to one side, then the other, and she felt his gaze
hot on the side of her face. Back and forth, he moved it, teasing
her. But he said nothing.

There
was no way she could leave that pen there. It was a very expensive
Mont Blanc. A pen she had been given by her attorney father when she
graduated from law school. A memoir of the only time in her life he'd
ever told her he was proud of her. So what if he'd only said it on the
card that came with the pen, and he was a thousand miles away in
Northern California handling a big case at the time. He had finally
said it.

"Do
it, Red," Trace urged in a low growl, as he edged the pen with his toe
again. She dropped to her knees beside her briefcase and crawled under
the table. She saw Trace's hand resting on his crotch. He stroked
himself, and she saw the hard ridge of his large penis outlined under
his jeans. Her mouth watered, as she contemplated doing what he asked.

She
had always been curious what the big draw was with him. Why women were
always after him. Policewomen and attorneys alike, even the female
criminals fell prey to his charms. Hell, she'd even heard he'd done a
judge and a female senator, while he was a detective. He must be one
hell of a lover is all she could come up with. Curiosity about him is
what had her so hot and bothered when she was representing him.

Trace
unzipped his jeans, and she saw his thick erection straining at the top
of his tight white underwear. She bit back a groan, as her hand closed
around the ink pen. His foot landed on top of her hand to trap it.

"You
know you want to do it, Veronica. You've wanted to do it for
years. Since you first met me," he suggested softly. "Now's your
chance, Red. To get your answers and satisfy your curiosity." His sexy,
tempting voice sent a chill down her spine.

Carrie Collins has been trying to hold it together for three years, since her husband Sean was killed in the line of duty during an undercover drug operation gone bad. If that and the mountain of bills she was left with weren’t bad enough, her son becomes mixed up with the wrong crowd at school. Carrie feels like a failure as a mother, and does the only thing she can think of to fix things, she goes back to her parent’s ranch.

Her dead husband’s best friend, the man accused, but later exonerated of, Sean’s murder shows up at the ranch with his new wife and offers her a break from the kids and the craziness of her life. Carrie is reluctant to accept, but he won’t take no for an answer. She goes to the R & R Ranch, but doesn’t find relaxation there. What she finds is a tall, charismatic ex-rodeo cowboy who not only ties her emotions in more knots than his lasso, he wakes up her dormant libido.

Carrie fights the attraction, because the last thing she needs is a man like Dylan Thomas in her life, a tumbleweed kind of guy who tells her in no uncertain terms he isn’t looking for a relationship. She knows her kids deserve better and so does she. Her kids aren’t there though, and the temporary fantasy he represents becomes too much to resist.

Dylan Thomas wants nothing more than to return to competitive bull riding after an almost career-ending injury landed him at the R & R Ranch teaching rich greenhorns to ride bulls. A year and a half of catering to those wealthy snobs has him bored and restless, until a curvy brunette convinces him it might not be so bad to hang around for a little while longer.

Carrie Collins takes hard to get to an olympic-class level though, and it takes everything in Dylan’s bag of tricks to get close to her. When things finally heat up between them, he finds out there are a couple of things she hasn’t told him about. Like the two kids she has who show up at the ranch, and the job she has accepted there.

His temporary fling with the cute ranch guest suddenly gets a lot more complicated and permanent. Especially when former associates of her son turn up at the ranch demanding money she doesn’t have. Dylan knows then he’s borrowed a helluva lot of trouble he didn’t need in his life by getting involved with her, but when the opportunity to leave presents itself, how can he leave her in danger?